Bloody Hellish and Rumor of Heaven
by geekmama
Summary: Two h-c vignettes -- Young Jack is badly wounded for the first time, and Bill proves himself a true friend.
1. Bloody Hellish

Disclaimer: Disney's

A/N: Written for the Pirates 500 'Sick' Challenge**__**

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**_Bloody Hellish  
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Unprecedented though it was, this fine morning First Mate Jack Sparrow reluctantly sat with the select group of crew who had been wounded in the latest of the _Black Pearl's_ raids.

The _Lady Jane_ had succumbed easily enough, but through recklessness or simple bad luck, Jack had been surprised by the sword of his enemy counterpart. He'd incapacitated the man, and hadn't even realized he'd been hit 'til Bill had seen and exclaimed, "God's teeth, you're bleedin' all over the deck, lad!"Bill had bound up the long cut, and the discomfort of this procedure left no doubt that it was bad. Lightheaded and hurting, Jack nonetheless donned his coat again and continued, 'til his Captain had ordered him back to the _Pearl_ with a sharp word (likely due to Bill's interference, curse him).

Now, cooling his heels perforce and faced with the prospect of the callus and vastly experienced Mr. Grieves cleansing and stitching the cut, Jack was growing increasingly fidgety. And nauseous. Yes. His breakfast was definitely considering making a reappearance.

It was work to maintain his usual sangfroid, joining the others in nervous, ribald comments on the lamentable state of Geoff Bailey, who was having a groin wound treated. Poor Geoff, shielded from sight by a blanket hung to create a makeshift infirmary, nevertheless was much in evidence as the sounds that issued from behind the drape indicated a less than stoic attitude on the part of the patient. But then, who among them would've maintained silence in such a pass? At least the Bailey Jewels were intact, eh?

Eventually, Bailey was helped to a cot, white-faced but still conscious. McElroy was next, and went with a rueful smile and a roll of eyes.

"Bloody hell," muttered Jenkins.

"Aye," agreed Jack.

More waiting and distressing sounds. Conversation died. Jack leaned back, closing his eyes.

A nudge startled him.

"Sparrow!"

His eyes flew open. 'Twas Grieves's assistant.

"You're next."

Jack nodded and got up, and began to black out.

Steadying hands. "Easy there, sir!"

His vision cleared, but his stomach lurched. "'M all right," he muttered.

"Sure you are."

The blanket pushed aside, he was steered to the stained table, where Grieves sat with his instruments and a supply of blue thread. Blue?

He was helped to undress, and Bill's blood-soaked handiwork removed.

"Won't take but a dozen, Jack," said Grieves cheerfully.

"Fucking wonderful, mate," Jack drawled.

Grieves chuckled.

The table was hard, but they slipped a pillow of sorts under his head. He swallowed down bile and wished himself otherwhere as Grieves took hold.

Then the henchman said, "Wait. Turner's comin'."

Frowning, Jack turned his head. The drape was pushed aside, and Bill came in and sat down on a stool next to him. Jack scowled. "I don't bloody need you to hold me hand, Bill."

Bill's eyes narrowed, fond amusement in them, and a touch of pity. "Shut up, Jack," he said, and held Jack's hand tight, anyway, and held the bucket for him, too, later.


	2. Rumor of Heaven

Disclaimer: Disney's

A/N: Sequel to **_'Bloody Hellish'_**, written in response to the Halloween Drabble Challenge at Black Pearl Sails, and to the Day of the Dead Challenge on Live Journal.

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**_Rumor of Heaven  
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Grieves'd been wrong. It was sixteen stitches, and every one of them felt like bits of hot lead against Jack's arm.

The fever started before the evening was out. When Bill came to check on him, after standing First Watch, Jack was in a bad way, aching and thirsty, his arm afire. Bill helped him sit up to drink some rum-sweetened water. That stayed down all right, but when morning finally came breakfast was out of the question. Bill fetched Grieves, who scowled over the look of the wound, and cursed the _Black Pearl's_ present lack of opiates. Grieves spoke tartly on this subject to Captain Tobias, who was next to crowd in, and whose hearty cheer made Jack wince. He did considerably more than wince, however, when Grieves cleansed his wound with rum a second time before rewrapping it. Grieves then bled him, and after that he'd drifted into a haze of pain and evil dreams, punctuated by occasional visits from concerned mates, including Tobias's Second, Barbossa, exuding spurious sympathy. The faithful Bill looked more worried with every passing hour.

Jack's fever rose further as dusk came on, and he dozed uneasily as night deepened . It was after Bill went on watch again that he fell into a deeper sleep, and thus was unable to pinpoint the time of his next visitor.

The clean, sweet rose scent was his first hint of her presence. Funny how he could smell that, rather than the usual tar and wood and sea, overlaid of late with less pleasant odors. But then there was the touch of a soft, familiar hand on his forehead. Familiar…but it had been so long….

He moved restlessly against the rough blanket and opened his eyes to the faint lantern light and the sight of her, standing beside him. The beautiful face. And her hair: still lustrous black. And she was slim again.

A calm smile touched her lips, seeing him wake.

"John! Darling!"

She sat on the cot beside him--he could feel the swell of hip against his side, only the blanket between them.

He stared, and spoke in a raspy whisper: "You're…you're _well_!"

"I am. I would I could say so of you."

" 'S my arm. Fellow…cut it."

She shook her head, though the smile still lingered. "I know."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Oh." He closed his eyes. He could feel her, caressing his face, then moving to run her hands lightly down his bandaged arm. Oddly, there was no pain.

A kiss on his forehead. "Sleep now," she said softly. "I must go. Your brother is waiting."

He murmured agreement, then slept, undisturbed.

A hand on his forehead, again. He licked fever-chapped lips. "Mother?"

"No, lad: Bill! Thank God. Your fever's down."

Jack opened his eyes and lay frowning as Bill unwrapped his arm.

"Jack, this looks better!"

Jack's expression lightened. "Good. But Bill…"

"Hmm?"

Jack looked at Bill for a long moment. Then said soft and slow, "My mother was here."

Bill gave a nervous laugh. "Here? And…you told me she died, Jack."

"She did. Childbed fever. My brother, as well."

"Ah."

His friend was looking at him closely, worriedly, and at last Jack smiled, crookedly. " 's all right. Couldn't be, eh?"

Bill's expression cleared. He opened his mouth, to turn it off with a light word. Then paused, and was seen to change his mind. He gave his own crooked smile. "Couldn't it?"


End file.
